


Survivors Guilt

by TrashficParlour



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Character Death, Donald Duck Needs a Hug, Guilt, Presumed character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashficParlour/pseuds/TrashficParlour
Summary: Donald didn't like remembering Della. When he did, he blamed himself.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891834
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33
Collections: Bad Things Happen





	Survivors Guilt

It was rare that Donald thought about Della nowadays. He often didn't have time to think about her, being completely preoccupied with taking care of the boys and whatever job he had to tend to this week. It didn't leave time to be sad, to grieve, to pay respects to the sister you lost so many years ago.

Not that he particularly wanted to think about her anyway.

Each memory with her, of whatever adventure or happy times they had had, pained him to recall. Her laugh, her ambitions, her will to survive. In the end it brought her nothing. Her lust for adventure, for the next big thrill had cost her her life. And her children had to pay the price.

Della's children, the boys, his darling nephews that Donald loved so much. They had to grow up without a parent, a mother to love them, cradle them, hold them tight. He had to step in and be their parent, even though he would never be anything else than their uncle. He would never replace Della and he never wanted to replace her either. He could never be enough in that sense. He couldn't emulate all the ways a mother would love her children, no matter how hard he tried. He hoped the boys wouldn't angry with him about that.

It was just past 10 pm and he had bargained with the boys to go to bed. He knew they'd secretly seen a horror movie despite his best efforts to destroy anything that wasn't suited for 10 year olds. He had no idea how they managed to get their hands on these films anyway. His kids were an enigma and he could only hope to be one step ahead of them.

With a sigh he made his way onto the deck of their houseboat, sitting down on the steps as he stared up at the sky. Stars adorned the dark purple firmament, shining brightly as if they weren't already dead. It was a tad morbid that the things praised as the most beautiful were already dead. Dead. Just like his sister.

Donald didn't like to dwell on the past, it brought him nothing but pain, but... sometimes, in moments like these, he lamented the loss he had endured. He wasn't sure who to blame. Della herself, for risking her life by stepping foot into that rocket? Scrooge, who had enabled her by gifting her such a dangerous machine in the first place? Maybe himself, for not managing to convince her to stay. Mostly he blamed himself. In the beginning he thought it was all Scrooge's fault. How could he even think of giving an expecting mother a rocket? Why didn't he stop her? Why would he ever let her leave? Though, as time went on, he mostly found the faults in himself.

He should have tried harder, _he should have known._ Of _course_ would Della try to do something dangerous, it was who she was. Donald should have known his own twin better. But he didn't. And now she was dead.

"Oh phooey," he muttered as he stood up, deciding that looking at the cause of his issues would do more harm than good. He would go back inside, maybe look through his bills, bury himself in work. Anything to stop remembering Della.


End file.
